


Christmas Dinner

by croftingthroughtombs



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Dinner, Fluff, Gen, M/M, a lil bit of sin but not really tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 18:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6765640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/croftingthroughtombs/pseuds/croftingthroughtombs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas dinner at the Layton household</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

With a yawn, Desmond Sycamore padded into the kitchen of the flat he shared with his boyfriend of two years. He switched on the kettle with a small shiver, cursing Paul for stealing his slippers yet again. He smiled fondly, hearing the other man in the shower, and then his attention was caught by a bright red envelope on the doormat. He hummed questioningly - he wasn't expecting mail.

  
  
"Paul, are you expecting any letters?" He called as he heard the shower switch off and took up the envelope curiously.

  
  
"Uh, nah; not that I can think of." Paul responded as he stepped through to the bedroom, his wet hair dripping water on the floor as he did, "Why?"

  
  
The address - with both Paul and Desmond's name on - was handwritten, in a scratchy, slightly messy cursive. It reminded the man of... teacher's handwriting.

  
  
"I believe my brother is writing to us..." He hummed.

 

“Why is he writing? We live like 20 minutes down the road from his place, he could just come see us. Or even just call.”

 

“Don’t be like that,” Desmond shot him a look, “Letters are nice.”

 

“Alright, fine. Now open it. Let’s see what he has to say.”

 

Desmond hummed as he opened the envelope and began reading the letter to himself.

 

“Well?”

 

“I think it’s an invitation. To Christmas dinner.”

 

"Let's see?"

  
  
Paul tilted his head with interest, putting his towel on his shoulders and appearing quickly behind Desmond to read the letter for himself. Water from his hair dripped onto the other man's shirt, and he resisted a shake of the head.

  
  
"Get off; your hair's still soaking." He protested, still reading the invitation.

  
  
"Can't help it if I'm _dripping_ with good looks." Paul smirked, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

 

"... You're dripping with _water_ , Topen." Desmond said dryly, chuckling, "So, up for a Christmas party then?"

 

“Yeah, why not? You know I like to party.”

 

“This isn’t going to be that kind of party. You’ll have to be on your best behaviour.”

 

“What, you mean I have to be civilised?”

 

“And no drinking?”

 

“Aw, babe.”

 

“Okay, some drinking. But if you get pissed like you did the last time we went somewhere, you can expect to be sleeping on the couch.”

 

"You're no fun sometimes, you know that, Des?" Paul pouted.

  
  
"Stick in the mud and proud of it." Desmond smirked a little, then blinked with surprise, "This party's tonight? I never thought Hershel was so unorganised."

 

Paul raised his eyebrows, then stood up properly again.

  
  
"We should get ready then, right?" He suggested, gesturing to the fact that Desmond hadn't even gotten dressed yet.

  
  
"Anything to go get you to dry your hair. My shirt's half soaked thanks to you." He responded with a chuckle, "I'll make us some breakfast."

 

“Make me a strong coffee. If I’m gonna have to stay awake for so long, I’m gonna need one.”

 

“I will. Just hurry up and get ready. Hershel didn’t give us much notice so we’re going to have to go gift shopping today.”

 

“Really? Do I have to come?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Aw.”

 

"It's that or you don't come at all. Your choice."

  
  
Paul made a face, and then walked off into the bedroom to get ready. Desmond smiled after him, dried off his shoulders, then got to work making their breakfast. As he cooked, he wondered what present they could get. A bottle of wine didn't seem Hershel's style, and besides, it wasn't exactly the most thoughtful gift of them all...

 

He was sure they’d find something if and when they looked. London had hundreds of shops, so there was bound to be something that Hershel would like in at least one of them. Maybe he could find some kind of puzzle...

 

“What time do we have to be there?” Paul called from across the flat.

 

“The invitation says 6 pm.”

 

"Ah we've got ages, then. What're you going to wear?"

  
  
Desmond paused, thinking about this question for a bit and humming. He flipped the pancakes he was making, and shrugged.

  
  
"No idea. The invite says it's come as you are, so maybe I'll wear my-"

  
  
"You're not wearing your suit, Des; you need to relax for once, put on something comfy." Paul chided, "How about a jumper?"

 

“A jumper? Seriously? I don’t think I even own any jumpers.”

 

“Well I’ve got loads; you can just borrow one of mine.”

 

“It’ll be way too big for me.”

 

“But you’ll be comfortable for once.”

 

“Who says I’m not comfortable in my suit?”

  
  
“Des, don’t argue with me on this.”

 

“... Fine.”

 

Paul looked satisfied with this response. He finished dressing - a lot more casual than usual - and combed his hair out, rubbing at the bald spot with slight annoyance, as if time would revert itself some 20 years. Desmond, entering the room with plates stacked with pancakes, noticed the action and quickly hugged the taller man from behind.

  
  
"Looking good, darling." He said smoothly, knowing exactly what he needed to hear.

 

Paul smiled, placing his own hands on top of Desmond’s.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Desmond leant up and placed a kiss on the other man’s cheek. Paul blushed at this, but quickly suppressed it.

 

“Now, are you going to get ready? Or do I have to help you get undressed first?” He said with a smirk and a wink.

 

"Before any of that, we have pancakes to eat, you dirty bugger." Desmond said back, handing one plate to Paul and then seating himself on the edge of the bed to eat.

  
  
"Oh? So what about after that, hm?" Paul pressed, the sly smile still on his face.

  
  
Desmond ignored the other man, too busy eating the pancakes to be doing with his flirts. He wasn't able to suppress a small grin at the words, though.

 

“Are you gonna answer my question, Desmond?”

 

“No.”

 

“You just answered a question, that I asked, so...”

 

“Oh, Paul.”

 

Paul fixed him with what could only be described as a puppy dog stare.

 

Desmond rolled his eyes.

 

“If we have enough time, then maybe.”

 

"We have _plenty_ of time, Des."

  
  
"Hm, before you take into account the Sunday crowds in the shopping centre, and the rush hour traffic, not to mention actually finding a present... Yes, if you ignore that, we've got 'plenty' of time." Desmond chuckled teasingly, and then gestured to the other plate, "Now eat, will you? Before they get cold and horrible."

 

“Maybe I’m not hungry for pancakes.”

 

“Behave.”

 

By the time they had both finished their breakfast and gotten ready, it was nearing midday. If they were to have any chance at finding gifts, they would have to be quick about it. The streets were going to be filled with last minute shoppers, so it would be battle to get the best presents.

 

Desmond consulted the list he'd put together hastily with a hum, glancing towards a more high end shop.

  
  
"How about... a good book?" Paul suggested, sidestepping an icy puddle and pulling his distracted boyfriend by the hand, out of the path of a family walking towards them.

  
  
"Or a tea set?" Desmond pondered, not even noticing the near collision, "It has to be something good..."

 

“Well he’s your brother, so you should probably pick his gift. How about we go in there?” Paul said, pointing to a rather cute looking knick-knack shop.

 

“Yeah, there might be something in there. Plus there’s barely any people!”

 

Paul nearly fell as Desmond began very quickly walking towards the little shop.

 

The shorter of the two men pushed open the door to the shop to be greeted by a small bell, the sound of carols playing over a tinny speaker, and the smell of gingerbread. He hummed appreciatively, stepping into the comfortable warmth of the small shop and glancing around. Paul followed him in, humming at the display of Christmas themed items lining the back wall.

  
  
"This place is nice..." He commented quietly.

 

Desmond was entranced by all the little gift items on sale. Rather unexpectedly, there were so many things that he thought Hershel would like, so it was hard to choose one.

  
  
It had been a fair while since they had entered the shop, and Desmond had finally found something he deemed worthy and giving his brother for Christmas. It wasn't anything much, but it would do.

  
  
He turned to Paul, only to find he wasn't there.

 

Narrowing his eyes, he scanned the shop to see if he could spot him, but to no avail. It wasn't like Paul to just disappear like that. As Desmond went to pay for the gift, he decided to wait until he got outside the shop before calling him; maybe he'd just gotten too warm inside.

 

As he got to the till, however, Paul came through the entrance, obviously hoping that Desmond hadn't noticed that he was gone.

  
  
But he did, and he fixed Paul with a stare.

 

Paul nearly instantly smiled back at him, suppressing a look of guilt and holding up a small bag.

  
  
"I went to the bakery next door; they had those tiny cakes you like. Thought we could bring them to the party?" He explained, maybe a bit too quickly, shifting a little on the spot.

 

Desmond rolled his eyes and shook his head a little, smiling as he did so.

  
  
"You don't half get distracted sometimes, do you?"

  
  
"Hey, be nice, I thought you might like them..."

  
  
"I do. Thank you, Paul." He smiled again.

 

"That'll be £10, please, sir." The cashier interrupted with a chuckle, passing the plastic bag over the counter to Desmond.

  
  
"Oh, of course, thank you." Desmond responded, attention back on the gift as he handed over the money.

  
  
Smiling warmly at Paul, Desmond took his hand as they left the shop, right back into the cold, crisp winter air. The carols in the shop were muted as the door swung shut behind them, and the taller of the two shivered.

  
  
"Told you that you should have brought a scarf with you." Desmond chided warmly, glancing up at Paul.

  
  
"Now's your chance to be properly romantic and give us yours, you know?"

  
  
"But then _I’d_ be cold."

 

"That's not something a gentleman would say."

  
  
"You forgot I'm not like my brother. And a gentleman wouldn't intentionally make his boyfriend be cold."

  
  
"We could share the scarf."

  
  
"Or you could learn to bring your own."

  
  
Paul playfully glared down at Desmond, who pulled his tongue and laughed.

 

Wrapping an arm around Desmond's waist as they walked, Paul began to hum a catchy Christmas song that had been stuck in his head for at least the past three days. Desmond took advantage of their closeness, leaning against Paul's side fondly as he looked at his list again.

  
  
"What wine should we buy, do you reckon? I'd say we should pair it to the food, but I've no idea what Hershel's going to make..." He pondered.

 

"It'll be a traditional Christmas dinner; do you really think he'd do anything different?"

  
  
"That's a good point."

  
  
The rest of their shopping trip went by fairly quickly, and before they knew it it was nearing the time they were supposed to be at Hershel's for.

 

"Paul, have you got everything you need?" Desmond checked as he looked at his list one last time.

  
  
"Yes, Des; no need to worry about me."

  
  
Paul glanced over at Desmond, noticing the almost compulsive checking of the list and tilting his head.

  
  
"You alright, babe?" He asked, squeezing the other's hand, "You seem a little... Anxious."

  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine..." Desmond mumbled, but a look from Paul made him continue, "It's just... We're not going to be the only ones there, are we? There'll be people there I've met before, to put it lightly..."

 

"Are these people that knew you as Descole?"

  
  
"They won't be at all happy to see me, let's put it that way."

  
  
"I'm sure it'll be fine. Hershel wouldn't have invited us all if he didn't think everyone would be okay."

 

Desmond sighed and nodded, turning the corner and glancing up the fancy block of flats, seeing decorations in every window. He checked the bag one last time, and Paul pressed a reassuring kiss to his cheek.

 

"It'll be fine, I promise." Paul told him.

  
  
"I certainly hope so."

  
  
Desmond took in a deep breath and rang the door bell for Hershel's flat.

  
  
Hershel's voice sounded through the speaker.

  
  
"Hello?"

  
  
"Hello, Hershel. We're here for dinner. I hope we're not too early?"

  
  
"No, you're just on time; come on up."

  
  
A buzzer rang and the front door was unlocked.

 

Stepping inside, Desmond led the way upstairs to Hershel's flat. Knocking at the door, they were quickly received by the professor, who smiled warmly.

  
  
"Desmond, Paul, it's good to see you. Apologies for the late invite; Flora suggested this whole thing rather late." Hershel chuckled, letting the two in.

  
  
"Nah, it wasn't a problem. Anyway, free food and wine? I'm not gonna moan." Paul grinned amiably, looking around at the warmly decorated living room.

 

Desmond stepped inside after Paul.

  
  
"Hello, Hershel. Thanks for the invitation. I hope you don't mind but we got some gifts."

  
  
Desmond smiled, looking at his feet.

  
  
"Are you okay, Desmond?" The younger man asked, immediately sensing that there was something wrong with his brother.

 

"Yes, I'm-"

  
  
A look from both other men made him rethink his sentence as he went to brush off the concern. He sighed, placed the presents under the brightly decorated tree - probably the handiwork of Flora - and then looked back to Hershel.

  
  
"I was just wondering... Who else will be attending tonight?" He asked, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

 

“Well,” Hershel started, “I’ve invited the Triton family. They’ve finally got the chance to come back to London to visit, and Luke was just over the moon. Oh! And I’ve invited Randall, Angela, and Henry as well. It’s pretty lucky that they can all come on such short notice.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Hershel raised an eyebrow at this less than enthusiastic response, and then hummed understandingly.

  
  
"I'm sure they'll understand, Desmond; they're good people. As long as you show that you've changed, they'll be fair to you." He reassured.

  
  
A clattering in the hall interrupted Desmond before he could respond. With a laugh of excitement, Flora slid on her socks into the room, expecting to see Luke now that the doorbell had rung.

  
  
"Luke! It's so good to- oh."

  
  
The beam on her face faltered for a moment, and then she looked curiously at Desmond. The man looked back, absentmindedly wondering where Paul had gotten to.

 

“Flora, you know who Desmond Sycamore is, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah, your brother, right? How come I’ve never met him before?”

 

“You just haven’t had the opportunity to yet. But he’s going to be joining us for dinner. Paul’s with him, as well.”

 

“Paul? I don’t see him.”

 

“I appear to have lost him.” Desmond spoke, forcing a smile, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Flora. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He extended his hand for her to shake.

 

Flora smiled back more genuinely now, and accepted the handshake just like she'd been taught.

  
  
"It's nice to meet you too!" She said warmly, looking up at the man.

  
  
Desmond chuckled, and his smile grew; Flora was just as nice as Hershel had said.

  
  
"So this means you're my uncle, right?" Flora asked, tilting her head.

 

“Yeah, I suppose I am. It’s a shame I didn’t realise Hershel had a daughter beforehand.”

 

Before Flora could reply, the doorbell rang again. And Desmond knew that now was the time that he had to face his fears.

 

Flora's face lit up, and she bounced past Desmond, skidding to a halt at the wall to answer the intercom.

  
  
"Professor! Flora! We're here!" Came an excited teenage voice.

  
  
As much as the voice had changed over the past few years, it was unmistakably Luke. Flora cheered excitedly, glad to hear the voice of her friend for the first time in what had felt like centuries to both of them.

  
  
"Come up, quick!" She urged, pressing the button to allow them entry, then opening the door to wait for them.

  
  
Desmond was much less excited than his niece, but the return of Paul from the kitchen loosened the worries a little. His boyfriend passed over a glass of wine with a wink, sipping his own.

  
  
"Loosen up a little, won't you?" He encouraged.

  
  
"Are you suggesting I go through this party drunk, Paul?"

  
  
"Not at all."

 

“That’s disappointing, because right now that sounds like a great idea.”

 

“You’ve got this, babe; it’ll all be fine.”

 

Luke practically barrelled through the door to the flat with a massive grin on his face. He hugged the younger professor and Flora tightly one after the other and then turned to face the rest of the room. He caught sight of Desmond, and instantly looked slightly worried.

 

“Descole?!” He questioned in a tone that felt like a knife in Desmond’s side.

 

"It's Desmond..." He corrected weakly, feeling the will to down an entire bottle of wine growing stronger.

  
  
"A-and Don Paolo? What are you doing here?!" Luke stammered with surprise, blinking and staring.

  
  
"I go by Paul now..." Paul mumbled, now feeling a fraction of the awkwardness and fear that Desmond was.

  
  
It was clear that this would take some explaining and multiple apologies from both men. When Clark and Brenda appeared in the doorway behind Luke, they glanced at the two men with less recognition, save for Clark's slight gasp at seeing Desmond, knowing him from archaeological papers and the like.

 

“You’re...”

 

“Desmond Sycamore. We’ve technically already met, in less than fortunate circumstances. I must say, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in a more formal situation.”

 

“Already met? I don’t understand.”

 

Desmond sighed. This was not going to go down well.

 

But before he could explain anything, Hershel interrupted him.

 

“I believe that it would be best to leave more detailed introductions until the rest of the guests get here.”

 

Glancing at his brother, Desmond managed a smile, silently thanking him for putting it off a little. Luke saw this movement and eyed the older man suspiciously, but decided against saying anything that might rile anyone up just yet. After all, a gentleman never antagonised. Instead, he watched Paul for a moment, and then moved over to catch up with Flora properly, letting his suspicions rest in place of a Christmassy happiness.

  
  
"Can I get anyone a drink at all?" Hershel offered as the Tritons entered properly, placing a few presents under the tree.  
  
"Not for me, thanks; I'm driving." Clark chuckled, glad to see his old friend again.  
  
"I'll have some mulled wine, if you have any, Hershel." Brenda said, hugging him quickly and pressing a friendly kiss to his cheek, "It's wonderful to see you again!"

 

“It’s wonderful to see all of you, as well. It’s been far too long.”

 

A good while went by that was filled with cheerful conversation. Paul loudly joined in, but Desmond kept himself to himself more. Sure, he wasn’t completely silent, but he tried to avoid talking too much. He didn’t want anyone asking questions just yet.

 

It had been a good half an hour since the Triton family arrived before the door bell rang again.

 

This time, there was no avoiding people’s questions; Desmond no longer had the excuse of waiting.

 

Hershel promptly answered the bell, allowing a jovial sounding Randall to enter, followed by an excited Angela and a less-cold-than-usual Henry. They were at the door in moments, and Randall pulled his friend into a hug the moment he saw him.

  
  
"Hersh! It's been too long!" He said with a bright grin.

  
  
Hershel hugged the man back with a chuckle, trying not to curb his enthusiasm for the party too much. Angela beamed at the company, giving a small wave to Luke, and then glancing to the others unrecognisingly. Henry was last to enter, carrying a few presents that he was quick to set down by the tree. He then greeted Hershel warmly, if rather formally.

  
  
When Randall finally released the professor from the squeeze of a bear hug, his eyes fell upon Desmond and he gasped loudly, pointing wordlessly and shaking his wife's arm. Desmond blanched, terrified that he'd somehow already been found out by the man he once manipulated.

 

“That’s Desmond Sycamore! You’re Desmond Sycamore!”

 

Desmond stared back wordlessly, not knowing what to say. Randall seemed thrilled to see him, despite everything Desmond had done to wrong him. Well, then again, it was Descole that had treated Randall wrongly.

 

Randall bounded over to him and took his hand to shake it.

 

“It is such an honour to meet you, Sir! You are a massive inspiration and I am just so amazed to see you in real life!” He turned to Angela again, “It’s Desmond Sycamore!”

 

“I... I... Thank you.” Was all Desmond could reply.

 

“Hersh! How do you know Desmond Sycamore?” It was almost as if Randall couldn’t get enough of saying that name.

 

“That’s a funny story actually...” Hershel responded, “He’s my brother.”

 

Had Randall had a drink at this moment, he would have spat it out. He stared between the professors with a look of bemusement.

  
  
"You have a _brother_?! And it's _Desmond Sycamore_?!" He exclaimed in utter shock.

  
  
The rest of the assembled company were similarly shocked, save for Luke and Flora, who were deep into a puzzle battle already, keeping only one ear on the conversation of the adults.

  
  
"Well yes... It's a long story..." Hershel said, adjusting his hat.

 

Hershel sighed and began his tale. He explained what happened with Targent and their parents, he explained that Desmond had given up his true name to enable Hershel to have a happy life, and he explained that Lucille and Roland Layton had been the couple that meant to adopt Desmond, but had adopted Hershel instead.

 

The guests were still in shock, Randall with his mouth hanging open.

 

“I suppose it’s my turn to do some explaining.” Desmond admitted, turning to Paul who nodded in encouragement.

 

“I’m not completely who you think I am. And in truth, you’ve all met me before, just while I was using a different name. I was once... Jean Descole.”

 

Various noises of displeasure and shock rippled through their small audience at this, and Desmond shifted uncomfortably, especially when Brenda pulled her son closer to her, looking protective. Randall looked positively scandalised, glaring at the man he'd been idolising only moments before. Even Henry's look became sourer here. There was no doubt that there was still ill will towards him here. Before anyone else could speak, Desmond quickly continued.

  
  
"I- I want to apologise for all of the misfortune and suffering I've caused you all over the years. I was too focused on my goals to realise what a trail I left behind me at the time. I deeply regret what I've done, and I'll do anything to make amends..."

 

Desmond stared at the ground, shuffling his feet awkwardly. He didn’t have the courage to look anyone in the eye right now.

 

“I don’t expect any of you to forgive me, but...”

 

“I forgive you.” A small voice sounded out.

 

It was Luke.

 

He had moved away from his mother, assuring her that everything was okay, and was now stepping towards Desmond.

 

Desmond blinked in surprise, staring at the young teenager and trying to understand why he - of all people - would be the first to forgive him.

  
  
"You did wrong, but you regretted it, and you had a reason for it all... When you stepped into that beam of light in the sanctuary, you helped save the world, Professor Sycamore! You're a good person at heart, and I know Aurora saw it too. So I forgive you." Luke explained, picking his words carefully.

  
  
He held his hand out to Desmond for a handshake, smiling warmly.

 

Desmond rejected the handshake, pulling Luke into a hug. There was no doubt that he had matured a lot since last seeing him, and Desmond was glad of his gentlemanly nature; Hershel had taught him well.

 

“Thank you, Luke.” He said in a quiet voice, trying his best to fight back tears.

 

Luke pulled away from the hug and turned to face the rest of the group that were still in a little bit of shock.

 

“What do you guys say? How about we let bygones be bygones and have ourselves a friendly Christmas dinner?”

 

The group exchanged looks of uncertainty, but now Luke had forgiven him, Clark and Brenda were soon to follow. Brenda nodded, humming coolly, and Clark did his best to let go of the past, nodding as well. Randall was more dubious, but then again, this was _the_ Desmond Sycamore, as well as one of his closest friend's brothers. He smiled and nodded acceptingly, reasoning that without the intervention of 'Descole', he wouldn't have his family back.

 

“And _I_ have an announcement to make!” Paul called, cutting in. He was, much to Desmond’s surprise, not at all drunk.

 

“I love this man right here,” He continued, “And in my honest opinion, it would be a mistake to not forgiven. He has changed so much for the better, and he’s changed me a lot too. My life is so much better for having him in it.”

 

“Paul, you’re embarrassing me.” Desmond said, his cheeks flushing red.

 

The group looked shocked again. This was a turn of events that no one was expecting, especially not Luke.

 

Flora was the first to react this time, looking glad that both men had finally found someone, especially after what she'd heard they'd both gone through.

  
  
"I'm happy for you two!" She said chirpily, beaming at them and causing a ripple of other approval from the others in the room.

  
  
Desmond let out a small sigh of relief - that had gone better than expected. No one had punched him, so that was certainly a plus.

  
  
"Thank you all for your forgiveness." He said, smiling gratefully.

 

"Come on everyone," Hershel smiled as he moved to put his arm round his brother's shoulders in a reassuring hug, "There's a turkey in the oven that's not going to eat itself."

  
  
The group all chattered in agreement and followed Hershel into the dining room.

  
  
The table was laid out with all sorts of delicious looking food. Potatoes, vegetables, yorkshire puddings, stuffing, and the like. Luke was practically salivating at the sight of it. He may have grown up a lot, but that boy's appetite could never change.

 

"I helped with the vegetables!" Flora said excitedly, gesturing to the middle of the table proudly.

  
  
"They look great, Flora; did you start taking lessons?" Luke said proudly as they all took their places.

  
  
The two teenagers fell back into warm conversation, as if no momentous forgiving had just happened, and it encouraged the adults to loosen up, too. Henry sat down next to Desmond, smiling in a friendly manner before sipping his wine and starting to serve himself some breakfast. Desmond smiled back, and then looked to Paul on his other side, who was smiling lovingly at him.

 

"See? I told you it would be fine." He said, squeezing the younger man's hand in a reassuring manner, "People can be very good at letting go of the past."

  
  
"And that's coming from you?" Desmond retorted, a cheeky grin playing on his lips.

  
  
"Hey, I let go of my past. It just took me a while, is all."

 

"I suppose..."  
  
Desmond quickly pressed a kiss to Paul's cheek when he was sure no one else was looking, and then served himself up some dinner as well, the spread of tantalisingly good food making his mouth water. He sat down again and, when everyone was finished serving up, Hershel raised his glass in a toast.

  
  
"To family and friends at Christmas time; may there be many more days like this."

 

"Cheers!" Paul said loudly, raising he own glass and encouraging others to do the same.

  
  
Glasses clinked and people laughed and smiled before tucking in to their more than luxurious looking dinner.

  
  
The conversation that went along with the meal was almost as rich as the food itself. Not a bad word was said and everyone seemed genuinely happy. It had been a long time since Desmond had seen so many happy faces in the same room.

 

When it came to the last scraps of food on plates, it was safe to say that most of the group was full to bursting. Even Luke, reclining in his chair, looked satisfied with the meal. Hershel, now wearing a paper party hat from a cracker atop his own hat, smiled warmly and started to clear away the empty dishes.

  
  
"Here, I'll give you a hand, mate." Paul said, standing up too and taking some dishes into the kitchen.

 

"Thank you, Paul. If everyone else would like to go into the living room, I thought we could open presents next."

  
  
"Sounds good to us." Randall said excitedly.

  
  
Luke, however, was the most excited person. He leapt out of his seat and practically ran towards the living room. He was followed by his mother, who rolled her eyes but smiled all the same.

 

By the time the rest of the company followed Luke through to the living room, he was already settled down by the tree, eyes roving over the presents for any with his name on. Flora was sat opposite him, doing very much the same. Hershel was first to give out presents, passing every guest one wrapped with meticulous care.

  
  
"Merry Christmas to you all." He said kindly, settling himself in an armchair with a small glass of wine.

 

Luke spotted a couple of presents at the back of the pile that were for him, so he reached to grab them.

  
  
In the process, he knocked over a small bag and an even smaller box toppled out of it.

  
  
"Ooh, what's that?" Angela asked, catching sight of what had just happened.

 

Luke tilted his head and reached to grab the box, inspecting it for a name tag - maybe it was something else for him! He shook it a little and heard a rattle.

 

"I don't know..." He said thoughtfully, "There isn't a name on it. What do you think, Flora?"

 

Flora looked up from the book she'd just unwrapped and hummed, shrugging and shuffling over to look at it properly.

 

After a moment of inspection, she reached a conclusion.

  
  
"It looks like a ring box!" She gasped.

  
  
All heads in the room turned to look at one another, as if everyone was trying to deduce who might propose.

  
  
Hershel's eyes settled on Paul, and Paul looked back. Hershel jerked his head to signal that he wanted a private chat with Paul.

 

Paul paled and, then nodded, closing the toolbox given to him as a present and excusing himself before Desmond returned from the bathroom. He sidled into the kitchen, followed closely by Hershel, feeling more anxious over this than anything in a long time.

  
  
"Paul... Any idea whose ring box that may be?" Hershel asked, a small twinkle in his eye.

 

"I might have an inkling... I mean, I might have a small idea... as to whose it might be...."

  
  
"Paul? Are you planning on proposing to my brother?"

  
  
"I, uh, well.... Yeah. Yeah, I am."

 

Hershel smiled warmly and nodded, putting a hand on Paul's shoulder.

  
  
"Don't hurt him, alright?" He chuckled fondly.

  
  
"I don't intend to, mate." Paul promised, twiddling his thumbs a little, then suddenly remembering that Luke still had the ring box

 

"He better not have opened it." He mumbled, darting back to the living room.

  
  
Luckily, Luke had put the box back in the bag. But unluckily, Desmond was back in the room, and he looked worried.

 

Paul cursed, assuming the worst, but hoping he was wrong. He walked up to Desmond, smiling warmly and sneaking a quick kiss to his cheek.

  
  
"What's the matter, babe?" He asked fondly, putting one arm around his waist.

 

“Nothing, I just hope that Hershel likes the present we got him.” Desmond replied, faking a smile.

 

Lucky for him, Paul wasn’t the best person at reading people, so being at least a decent liar was enough to trick him into thinking he was okay. In truth, Desmond had seen the ring box, and he was fairly sure who it was for, and who it was from.

 

"We should probably give it to him soon; the tree's getting a little sparse for gifts." Paul responded, calming down a little.

  
  
He picked up the present from under the tree, making a small, quick check on the box before straightening up again.

 

When the rest of the gifts had been distributed, Desmond picked up the gift he had gotten for Hershel and passed it to him.

 

“It’s nothing special, just a silly token gift, you know?”

 

Opening the present to reveal a carefully decorated journal and a set of fountain pens, Hershel smiled and pulled his brother into a quick hug.

  
  
"It's fantastic, Desmond; thank you." He said, true gratefulness in his voice.

  
  
"You're welcome." Desmond responded quietly, still somewhat dazed at the fact everyone had been so forgiving to him.

 

All the presents had been opened by this point. Well, all but one. The little bag that Luke had toppled over was still under the tree, and Paul decided that now was his moment.

 

“Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag, so to speak,” He started, “I have a question.”

 

Desmond looked quickly towards Paul, seeing him glancing again at the bag underneath the Christmas tree. He could feel his heart thumping, and his entire body felt that bit too warm now. If he was right about this, and now he was sure he was... What was he supposed to say? To do? Did he act like he was surprised? Tell the truth? The people all around didn't help all these worries as he tried to think it all through.

  
  
"Oh...? What question's that, then?" He asked, keeping his voice calm.

 

“If I’m honest, I feel a little bad asking this in front of so many people, but I couldn’t think of a better time than a celebration with so many friends.”

 

Flora and Luke were giggling quietly to themselves; they obviously knew what was about to happen.

 

“And now that I’ve gotten to know you all, and it’s been such a magical evening, I can think of no better time to ask this.”

 

Already, Desmond was blushing brightly, smiling at Paul and holding one of his hands. Even though he knew what was coming, he still couldn't quite process it.

  
  
"Des, it's no secret that we got off not on the best of terms, and - again - no secret that the road to today's been full of drama and bumps, but if I'm entirely honest... I wouldn't have it another way."

  
  
This was the most confident in speaking about their relationship that Paul had ever been, and Desmond noticed that. His words were sure, and he didn't look away or laugh even once, like he had when Desmond had tried to initiate 'serious talks' of his own.

 

“And I can’t think of any better way to spend the rest of my life.” He continued.

 

Paul took Desmond’s hand in his own and knelt down on the floor on one knee.

 

“So, Desmond, will you marry me?”

 

He held out the box that everyone saw before, but it was now open, and the ring was now visible.

 

It was nothing too fancy, but right now, that didn’t really matter.

 

"To me, it sounds like you should be jealous; the amount you're saying his name." Angela teased fondly, rubbing her husband's arm and laughing.

  
  
Randall chuckled and watched as Henry made conversation with Clark - probably about looking after towns and the like, if he knew his friend anywhere near well. Everything was mostly calm, and most were settling down to watch a movie - suggested by Flora - when the phone rang.

 

Hershel got to his feet and answered the phone.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hello, Hershel! Merry Christmas!” A familiar sounding voice called down the line.

 

“Emmy! It’s good to hear from you! Merry Christmas to you too!”

 

“How are you all?”

 

“We’re all great, thanks. And yourself?”

 

“I’m doing alright.”

 

“Emmy, is it okay if I put you on speaker? There’s a lot of people here who I’m sure would love to say hello.”

 

“Sure, go for it!”

 

As soon as Hershel set the phone to speaker, Luke approached, grinning.

  
  
"Merry Christmas, Emmy!" He chirped excitedly.

  
  
"Luke?! What are you doing there? It's good to hear from you!" Emmy said joyously, having not expected to hear her old companion at all.

  
  
"It's a Christmas party! Everyone's here; even Professor Sycamore, and Paul!" He responded, "I'll let you talk to everyone else, though."

 

“Hello everyone!” Emmy beamed.

 

Everyone there took their turns saying hello to Emmy and extending their Christmas greetings.

 

“Hey, I don’t have much longer left to talk to you guys, so I just wanna...” Emmy started, but was soon cut off by an over-excited Luke.

 

“Emmy wait! We have some great news! Paul and Desmond got...”

 

“Luke, don’t you think they should tell her themselves?” Hershel interrupted him.

 

“Tell me what?”

 

“Go on, you tell her.” Paul urged his fiancé

 

“Paul and I got engaged.” Desmond told her, a large grin on his face.

 

"What?!" Emmy cried excitedly, "I'm so happy for you two; congratulations! You have to tell me _everything_ at some point soon!"

  
  
Paul and Desmond glanced at each other, and made a quick unspoken agreement to visit her soon.

  
  
"We'll be sure to, Emmy." Paul assured, the smile on his face wide enough to be heard in his voice.

  
  
"Alright, I've not got long left, so Merry Christmas to all of you, and congratulations again!"

 

“Bye Emmy!” Luke called rather loudly.

 

Everyone else said their goodbyes, and the flat was left a lot quieter again.

 

An hour or so later, when the movie they were watching had finished, it was getting pretty late, so everyone decided that it was probably time to go home and go to bed.

 

The Triton family were staying in a hotel in the centre of London, and the lot from Monte D’Or had a long drive ahead of them, so they thought that it would be best to leave now.

 

Desmond and Paul also thought it was about time to make a move; Flora was suppressing yawns fairly often, and they didn't want to keep either her or Hershel up too late.

  
  
"Thank you for inviting us to this, Hershel; it was a fantastic evening." Desmond said quietly, still casting glances to his ring every now and then.

 

“It’s no problem, Desmond. You’re welcome to drop by anytime, you know?”

 

“I know, thank you.”

 

“But really, I think we have Paul to thank for making this such a magical night.”

 

“I think you’re right there.” Desmond chuckled lightly.

 

Paul grinned, hearing his name, then wrapped his arms fondly around Desmond's waist.

  
  
"I'm not finished on that front yet, you know, Des..." He said lowly enough that Hershel wouldn't hear.

  
  
Desmond flushed lightly, grinning a little, and then looked back to Hershel, trying not to react too much.

  
  
"Well, we'll be getting on, then; don't want Flora staying up too late." He said, glancing at the sleepy girl curled up on the sofa.

  
  
"Thank you for coming." Hershel said warmly.

  
  
Flora looked up here, and quickly pulled both men into a hug.

  
  
"Come around again soon, Uncle Desmond, Uncle Paul..." She said sleepily, smiling softly.

 

“We will, Flora.” Desmond promised, “Now go get some sleep.”

 

“I will.” She replied sleepily.

 

She went off in the direction of her bedroom, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

 

“We’d better go. You need your sleep too.” Desmond told Hershel.

 

“Ever the concerned older brother.” Hershel retorted.

 

“You respect your elders, young man.”

 

Hershel chuckled at the exchange as he accompanied the couple to the door.

  
  
"Merry Christmas again, you two; and congratulations on your engagement." He said, tipping his hat to both of them.

  
  
"Thanks for hosting the party, Hersh." Paul said with a wide grin as they stepped out, "See you soon!"

 

“Bye, Hershel.” Desmond said, following his fiancé out the door.

 

As the door shut behind them, Desmond grabbed Paul’s hand and pressed a kiss to his cheek. They walked down the stairs and back into the outside world.

 

It was snowing, much to both men’s delight.

 

The walk home was cold, admittedly, but it was nice.


	2. Chapter 2

All the way, both of them were in a state of near ecstasy. Paul shivered, having forgotten his scarf again, but Desmond was more than happy to share his, walking close to him so they could share their warmth.

  
  
"I love you, Paul; thank you for proposing..." He said quietly, unwilling to break the peace of the moment.

 

“I love you too, Desmond. And you don’t have to thank me. I wanted to. Obviously.”

 

“Still, I think you deserve some kind of... thank you gift.”

 

Paul looked down at Desmond who just winked at him.

 

“I take it this is the kind of gift I have to wait until we get home for?”

 

“You’d be right there, babe.”

 

“Well then. Race you home.”

 

And with that, Paul ran as fast as his legs would take him.

 

“Oh come on!” Desmond shouted after him, beginning to run himself.

 

Paul simply grinned, not slowing for the life of him. Desmond shook his head, pursuing his fiancé all the way back to their flat. The head start allowed Paul to win this race, and he slammed the door before Desmond could reach him. Sighing, but laughing all the same, Desmond knocked at the door.

  
  
"Let me in, Paul..." He said, grinning and resting against the door to regain his breath.

 

“What’s the password?” Paul called from inside the flat.

 

“I don’t know. Let me in... please?”

 

“No, that’s not it.”

 

“Well I have no idea then.”

 

“Come on, keep guessing. Or you’ll have to stay out there all night.”  


 

“Oh, but then I won’t be able to give you your gift, darling.”

 

Desmond smirked as he said this, and the door was unlocked.

 

"I'll save your pride and say that was the password." He smirked, pulling Paul down to his level as he closed the door behind him, "So, _future_ Mr Sycamore, I bet you can't guess what this present is."

  
  
Paul blinked at the nearness, trying to pull his fiancé in for a kiss, but being stopped by a hand in between their lips.

  
  
"No kisses until you guess."

 

“Do I really have to guess?” Paul asked, pouting slightly and bringing his hands to rest on Desmond’s hips, “Because I already think I have a fairly good idea.”

 

“Well what do you think it is?”

 

“Why don’t you just tell me what it is?”

 

Paul had now walked Desmond backwards towards the door and there was no more space between his back and the door itself.

 

"Why don't I just unwrap it and find out, hm?" He smirked, slipping his hands under Desmond's loose jumper and looking down at him.

  
  
"It's more fun if you guess; that's why." Desmond said, feeling his back against the door and raising an eyebrow at Paul as he locked it.

 

“I know what I’d like my present to be.”

  
  
“And what’s that?”

 

“You.”

 

“Oh, what a coincidence. I must be good at this gift choosing thing.”

 

Paul couldn’t take it anymore and crashed his lips down onto Desmond’s. The kiss was feverish and hungry, and Desmond smirked to himself.

 

Pressed against the wall, all Desmond could only respond to the kiss with equal desire, wrapping his arms around Paul's neck to steady himself. He felt Paul already trying to rid him of his shirt and pulled away from the kiss, catching his breath for a moment and looking into Paul's eyes to see his own thoughts and emotions reflected in them.

  
  
Sliding his own hands under Paul's shirt, he reinitiated the kiss with as much passion as he could muster, causing Paul to let out a moan of surprise and delight at the heated response.

 

Paul’s hands were pulling Desmond even closer towards him.

 

“How about... we take this... to the... bedroom?” Paul breathed out in between kisses.

 

“I think I’m okay here for a while.” Desmond smirked, pulling away slightly.

 

“You’re not being very nice, Desmond.”

 

“Oh, well I supposed you’ll have to do something about that, hm?”

 

Looking down thoughtfully at Desmond, Paul hummed for a moment, and then took his fiancé's hands in his own. Surprised by the suddenly tender movement, Desmond looked up, tilting his head.

  
  
"I suppose I'll just do this, eh?"

  
  
With a triumphant smirk, Paul pinned both Desmond's arms to the wall above him and began to kiss him deeply, catching the shorter man totally off guard.

 

Desmond’s eyes widened, but he soon closed them again, giving in to Paul’s kiss.

 

Paul’s hands moved slightly so that one still had the other man’s wrists in its grasp, but the other moved to rest on Desmond’s abdomen.

 

Desmond shivered at the sudden touch.

 

“Your hands are freezing.” He managed to speak as Paul leant back to catch his breath.

 

"I'm sure we'll both warm up soon." Paul said lowly, allowing himself a genuine smile.

  
  
Starting to press light kisses to Desmond's neck, he managed to resist the urge to go straight in for the more intimate kisses. As he teased, the hand not pinning Desmond to the wall travelled to the small of his back and made small circles before travelling lower still.

 

“You cheeky bastard.” Desmond breathed, trying his best not to moan as Paul peppered kisses along his jaw line.

 

“You know you love it.”

 

“I know I love you.”

 

“With skills like this, who wouldn’t?” Paul grinned.

 

"Hm, I changed my mind; I don't like people that brag." Desmond said, looking away from Paul as much as was possible with their position.

  
  
Raising an eyebrow at this, Paul pressed a more intense kiss to the most sensitive area on Desmond's neck - since it was now perfectly exposed, and the other man couldn't help the moan that came out as pleasure radiated from the kiss.

  
  
"I beg to differ." Paul smirked.

  
  
Desmond's cheeks flushed lightly as he tried to kiss him in return, but he was restrained just that bit too much to do anything. Paul was the one in control here, and he loved it. Returning to the teasing kisses along his neck, he started to bring them lower, the jumper loose enough to expose Desmond's shoulders with fairly little help. Kisses were pressed along his collarbone, intensely passionate, but still light enough to leave him wanting so much more.

 

"I think maybe we should take this to the bedroom." Desmond managed to speak in a quiet voice.

  
  
"I'm so glad you agree with me now."

  
  
And with that, Paul let go of Desmond's wrists and backed away from him slightly. But he was still in control, and he couldn't let the other man forget that. So he quickly hoisted Desmond up over his shoulder and lay a firm hand on his ass.

  
  
Desmond was slightly surprised at this action and let out a gasp, but he wasn't about to put a stop to it.

 

With that, he carried Desmond to the bedroom, still pressing feverish, desperate kisses to wherever he could reach. Kicking shut the door, Paul practically dropped him onto the bed, lifting Desmond's jumper quickly over his head and pressing firm kisses to his chest. Small red marks were left in a trail, and it just made Desmond all the more full of desire.

 

The kisses got lower and lower, and lower still, until Desmond's heart rate was out of control and his breathing was erratic. But suddenly, Paul looked up and smirked at him.

  
  
"Not just yet, babe." He said as he wagged his finger.

  
  
Desmond let out a noise of disappointment, and Paul just laughed.

  
  
"Doesn't feel so good being teased, does it?"

  
  
"But I bet you're loving being the teaser, aren't you?"

  
  
"Damn right I am."

 

Desmond attempted to press kisses along Paul's neck, but he was pushed back down to the bed easily. Paul slid his hands down Desmond's sides lightly, resting his hands against his hips. Taking advantage of his hands being free, Desmond quickly unbuttoned Paul's shirt and pulled him down closely, a smirk on his own face now. He managed to sneak a short, passionate kiss onto his lips, slipping off his shirt at the same time.

 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” Paul said, looking down at Desmond, almost as if he was admiring him.

 

“What? A couple of days? Oh yes, such a long wait.” Desmond replied, smirking, just as cocky and confident as ever.

 

“Being around other people means I have to look at you, but I can’t do anything about it. Just seeing you there, it does something to me, Desmond. You’re just so... beautiful.”

 

"Paul..."

  
  
Desmond could feel himself going bright red. At that moment, those words seemed more intimate and passionate than any actions he could care to think of. His smirk was, for a moment, replaced with a loving smile. He pressed a much softer kiss to Paul's lips, and then rested down against the bed again, looking up at him.

  
  
"There's no one about now; feel free to act on it..." He said finally, sliding his hands down the other man's side to rest on his trousers.

 

“Oh, believe me, I will.”

 

Paul pressed another kiss to Desmond’s lips, one hand tangling in the smaller man’s hair, and the other beginning to pull on the hem of his trousers.

 

Sooner rather than later, both men were only in their underwear; the pile of clothing on the floor growing with every second. The sensation of skin on skin contact caused Desmond to flush bright red across his entire body. And this made Paul smile slightly.

 

Paul had been right earlier, when he'd said they wouldn't be cold for long. The heat between them was rising with each more passionate move, and it was hard for either man to resist by this point.

  
  
Trailing kisses across Paul's bare, heaving chest, Desmond pulled him closer, breathing rather heavily himself. He let out a moan when Paul pressed a long kiss to his neck. Noticing the other man straddling him, he blushed and smiled in equal measure, desperate for him to continue.

 

And continue he did.


	3. Chapter 3

Laying there in post-coital bliss, both men’s hearts were beating like crazy. A layer of sweat covered their bodies and their chests were heaving as they were both terribly out of breath.

 

Paul had one arm around Desmond’s shoulders as Desmond lay on his chest, one hand running circles over the skin of his stomach.

 

In the haze that had come over Desmond's mind, all he could do was sigh happily, nuzzling closely into Paul's bare shoulder. He pressed soft, gentle kisses to the other man's cheek, his smile full of adoration. He could barely find words, let alone express them - he was breathless and indescribably happy.

  
  
"I hope that gift was everything you wanted..." He said coolly when he could finally string a sentence together.

  
  
"And more, Des... And more."


End file.
